Nicola Streeten's little boy, Billy, was two years old when he died following heart surgery for problems diagnosed only ten days earlier. Gut-wrenchingly sad at times, her graphic memoir is an unforgettable portrayal of trauma and our reaction to it — and, especially, the humour or absurdity so often involved in our responses. As we follow Streeten and her partner's heroic efforts to cope with well-meaning friends and day-to-day realities, we begin to understand what she means by her aim to create a 'dead baby story that is funny'.